Umlindi Wemingizimu: Watcher of the South
by Sam-I-Am2
Summary: After being contacted by an old friend of Mulder's, the agents set out onan adventure in Cape Town, South Africa.
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Umlindi Wemingizimu: Watcher of the South"  
By: Sara Tanner Category: X, A, MSR Spoilers: A couple thrown in there, for FTF, Detour, maybe some others. Summary: After being contacted by an old friend of Mulder's, the agents set out on an adventure in Cape Town, South Africa. Disclaimer: They're not mine, ok?

Notes: This was a shorter story I completed in 2000, I believe. I was never quite happy with how short it was. I had always thought it would make a more appropriate novel, as the story seemed brief and rushed. As of recent, I decided to take it back out and rehash it out to fulfill my dream for it.

There was quite a bit of research that went into the original story. The myth of Umlindi Wemingizimu is real, and has been researched prior to the beginning of the story. The research agency featured in the story, to avoid any possible political overtone or confusion, is fictional, as are all the original characters.

I'm through most of the story, and will be posting in increments as often as possible ( I won't dangle it out unnecessarily). I simply have yet to finish editing and getting all the ducks in a row.

"Umlindi Wemingizimu: Watcher of the South"

Part I:

Table Mountain Cape Town, South Africa March 10, 2001

The sun was quickly setting over the lush land of Table Mountain. The pink glow settling over it's peak cast eerie shadows around the mountain's healthy shrubbery. It was stunning, though,  
as the sky was clear, and the air around the mountain began to still, as if calming for bed time. The mountain was almost completely surrounded by water, placid and lapping around the town lying quiet at the foot of the looming but benevolent mountain.

Nestled in a small, outcropped clearing of the mountain, was a cluster of ten large tents, each vacant. Their members were all huddled around a slowly waning fire, each hoping to catch one more rush of warmth before the cool night set in. The tension in the air around the men and women was thick, and it was clear that no one dared speak. All were clearly engrossed in their personal thought. Most sat staring into the fire, or at the ground.  
A good few sat hunched with anger in their shoulders and in the puffing breaths. 

One man slowly stood up. He was slightly older than the rest of the group, his hair gray, and wrinkles settling around a pair of troubled, but friendly eyes. He diverted his gaze, unable to face the crowd of upset eyes boring holes into him. He sighed as he tried to think of some way to appease the group.

"I am truly sorry, ladies and gentlemen. I know how much this expedition meant to you. But you all must know, I am not responsible for this decision." The man explained, nervously stuttering. "From the word I've gotten, there simply was not enough funding for the expedition to continue. You all must know that it is not the fault of anyone here." "Dr. Pierce," another, younger man stood, stopping the professor before he turned away. "We understand."

The professor nodded, flashing a tentative and apologetic grimace, before turning back to his tent. None of the observation team spoke before following the professor's example, and each headed back to their own tents, looking forward to a good night's sleep.

The professor found it fitting that, as exhausted as he was, sleep was apparently not in the cards this particular evening. The day's events troubled him deeply. The team had been observing the wild life on Table Mountain for over two months, only to be suddenly ordered by headquarters to discontinue their expedition immediately and indefinitely.

"Damn headquarters..." the professor muttered under his breath.

To the professor, the declaration that there simply was not enough money seemed cheap and easy. Pierce had never been a particularly paranoid man, but he had a strong feeling that someone simply didn't want them there. In fact, his gut had felt that the expedition was cursed from the beginning. He'd won a long struggle to run another expedition, only to battle falling team member numbers, illness, and now this.

Pierce snorted, "Damn it...".

A loud rustling outside his tent abruptly interrupted his thoughts. The professor's eyes widened and he was momentarily overtaken by thoughts of the many creatures that could possible be making themselves comfortable outside his tent. The professor grew more concerned as he heard a low rumble and moan seemingly coming from everywhere at once, underneath him, outside the tend, and all around him. The wind had begun to pick up, and it whistled around his tent flap, threatening to flip it over. 

The professor could hear his team members' moans as they awoke. His fear was quickly escalating into panic. He was beginning to fear for his team. As he heard them awake, he could hear myriad comments make their way over to him. They were as confused and frightened as he was. Despite his reluctance, the professor quickly lit his lantern and drew down the zipper of his tent. His heart beat wildly in his ribcage, and he felt somewhat dizzy and faint. Upon opening the flap, he was struck with a forceful rush of wind; almost knocking him back onto his heals. The professor brought his hands up to his eyes, protecting himself from the flying dust and various debris.  
A sudden bright flash of light shone over the mountain, and all Dr. Pierce could do was scream, as he felt some invisible force pin him to the ground. He felt as though his skin was being pulled off. The light waned and all he heard was an anguished moan before his world turned black.  
FBI Headquarters Washington DC March 17,2001

Washington DC was certainly ready for spring. The sky was a striking blue, and there was not a cloud to be found. Tourists bounced along the streets wearing the ubiquitous tan shorts and Hawaiian-style shirts left over from last year's vacation. Their cameras were always poised and on the ready, hanging from their necks, or nestled in their fanny packs, ready to catch an everlasting glimpse of the wonder that is the Nation's Capital.

The bustlings of the world were of little consequence to the lone office nestled in the bowels of the J. Edgar Hoover building,  
however. The office heard no traffic and scarcely saw sunlight. The only connection the room had to the outside world was its uncanny ability to ignore the central air unit of the Hoover building and manage to mimic the outside weather with heart and soul. The office was alternately sweltering in the summer, and frigid in the winter. It was humid some days, dry others, and never just right.

Today, the office was humid, reflecting the rainy day before. It was hot as could be, and walking in the door, there was a phantom sensation of being slapped with a wet blanket.  
None of these things could really touch Fox Mulder, though. Today there was a definite bounce in his step, and he could do nothing but smile, even as he watched his keys tumble clumsily down the stairs outside the office.

He didn't groan and his knees didn't creak when he bent to pick them up, and he even whistled as he shoved the offending office key into the worn and reluctant lock on the office door. Jangling them, he bit his lip until the key hit the exact weakness in the lock, and the door flew open.

"Open sesame..." he whispered under his breath.  
Rearranging the papers strewn about the office, he cleared just enough room for his suit coat and wayward tie. As he sorted through his inner-office mail, he slowly rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and unbuttoned the top button gently pushing into his throat.

Seeing that the mail yielded nothing important, he made his way to the coffee maker. As he went about preparing the morning's sludge, he thought about how happy Scully would be to see that he took the initiative in making the coffee this morning. Typically, he left the task to her. Truth be told, he just wasn't as big a coffee drinker as she was. He used the stuff to jog himself. If Scully didn't have at least three cups of coffee before 10:00,  
there was hell to pay.

Once there was enough coffee poured into the carafe to make a cup, he quickly pulled the pot out and poured his cup before too much of it could make its way onto the counter top. After wiping up what mess he did make, he picked up his coffee, and took a sip of the steaming, bitter drink. Declaring to himself that it was drinkable, he turned and headed back toward his desk.

As he plopped down into his desk chair, it unexpectedly began to recline, and his arm jolted as he tried to get control of his still-full coffee cup. Tipping himself back forward, he managed to set the cup down on the desk before catastrophe struck. Mulder let out a sigh, grateful to the powers-that-be that he had not spilled yet another cup of hot coffee onto a brand-new suit.

Just as he was reclining back again, sans coffee, the door burst open, and there was a jovial "Morning, Mulder!" This time, he was not quite as lucky maneuvering his chair.  
While trying to remain upright, he almost experienced the horror of tipping the chair over to the side. Once all was righted, he worked to get his heart rate and breathing back under control. "Good Morning, Scully..." there was a slight hint of annoyance in his voice.  
Mulder looked up to meet Dana Scully's grinning face. She looked as though she was ready to burst, trying to hold in the guffaw that was daring to escape her lips. The dirtier side of his mind thought he knew exactly what had her so giddy, as he thought back to her naked body sprawled out on his bed the night before. More importantly, her naked body sprawled out underneath his naked body. But he didn't say anything to her. Such utterances were a complete sin in the confines of the office. He wouldn't live to make it halfway through the comment.  
"Good morning, sunshine!" She teased him.

"What's got you so 'sunny' this morning"  
Mulder mock-grumbled at her. He quirked his eyebrow to convey to her exactly what he meant.

Scully's smile broadened before she made a point of disappearing it and clearing her throat. "Oh, I don't know, Mulder. I suppose I just had a good time last night. You know, spend the night hunkered down with a good book." "Scully-" His response was interrupted by the shrill ring of the office telephone. Mulder simply smiled, silently telling her to hold her thought, and reached over to pick up the receiver.

"Mulder."

There was a snort of laughter on the other end of the line. "Same old idiot," the friendly voice trailed off.

Mulder was puzzled for a moment. What the hell? He looked to Scully, who was growing concerned watching the expression on his face. Mulder's brows knitted. Somehow, he thought he just might recognize that voice. "John? Is that you?"

Another bark of laughter echoed across the line. "Damn straight, Mulder." Scully relaxed as Mulder's confused expression morphed into a smile.  
"You never do forget a voice, do you?"

"What the hell are you trying to do to me John? And, while we're at it, where have you been?"

"Well," John continued, "I would love to explain that to you Mulder. I've found the agency I work for in a bit of trouble. In short, I have something very important to discuss with you, and I'm in DC right now. Can you meet me?"

"Sure. Where and when?" Mulder pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.

"Can you meet me over at Casey's for Lunch? 12:00?"

"That'll be fine. Is everything ok John? You're alright, aren't you?" Mulder was concerned. Was it only his agency that was in trouble, or was he himself in trouble?

"Well, not everything is fine, Mulder, but I don't believe I'm in any personal danger. I just desperately need your help. I'll see you at lunch?"

"Sure thing, John. And be careful." Mulder ended the conversation.

He hung up, the remnants of his smile still hanging on his face, but mixed with some concern. He looked up at Scully, whose eyebrows were still raised in blatant curiosity, waiting for an explanation for the display.

"Who was that?" She finally couldn't stand it and asked.

"His name is John Collins. There's not really much to tell. We roomed at Quantico and sort of became unofficial best friends." Mulder explained.

"Unofficial?"

"Yeah. Being a friend of mine is slightly reputation damaging. But he was the only person who was really willing to listen to me. We just tended to go our separate ways when around colleagues. I understood. I know it seems kind of backhanded, but it was a really good friendship."

"I understand." Scully had a slightly wistful look on her face. "What has him contacting you now?"

"I truly have no idea. I haven't spoken to him in years. Last I knew, he dropped the FBI to work for a private organization in environmental protection."

"That's a real 180 from the FBI." Scully raised her eyebrows.

"You don't have to tell me that, Scully. I tried best as I could to keep the guy around. But, it was his real dream to work in the sun, in the wilderness, with animals. I don't know exactly what had him working in law enforcement. He was great at it, but it was always obvious that he would rather be elsewhere." 

"What was with the concern over the phone? It sounded as though he's in danger." Scully's tone began to move more to the suspicious side.

"I don't know. He said something about his agency running into some trouble. I hope he hasn't gotten himself into some kind of danger. Either way, he asked us to meet him at Casey's at noon. We'll get the full scoop then."

Scully nodded her agreement, her brows furrowed as she headed toward the file folders piled atop her desk. 

Casey's Bar and Grill 11:45 am

Scully happily sipped at her iced tea as she watched Mulder sitting across from her. They sat at a four-seater table in the middle of the restaurant, with a perfect view of the front door. Mulder was definitely taking advantage of the view, his attention glued to the front door. His leg nervously tapped in solid rhythm against the hard linoleum floor of the restaurant, if somewhat to her annoyance. She didn't begrudge him, though.  
He was obviously excited to see his friend.

Scully was secretly anxious to meet his friend as well. Mulder's friends were so few and far between, it was almost a surprise to find they existed when they happened across them. Though she wasn't terribly pleased that the man hadn't had enough guts to share an open friendship with Mulder, she understood how important it was to have just one person who was willing to listen, even if it wasn't necessarily in public.

Suddenly, Mulder turned back to Scully,  
watching her watching him. He caught her eyes for a second, and knew she had him pegged. He turned his back from the door, and took a short sip of his diet coke. A watched pot will never boil, right?

Mulder briefly wondered if John would like Scully. Part of him was sure he would.  
After all, there were very few people he knew of who didn't like her. She was typically perfectly neutral, pleasant, and appealing,  
if for a few exceptions.

Mulder also wondered what it was John wanted to discuss with him. He couldn't think of much they would have in common professionally, if John had continued down the path he was working the last time he had spoken to him. Had it really been over five years since Mulder had spoken to John?  
It was much longer since they had worked together, John his silent but willing ally.

Scully's attention was caught as she spied movement at the front door. A man in his early forties came through the door, with a luxurious head of hair and a broad smile on his face. There was scarcely any sign of aging on his face, and he had a flattering tan, betraying his great amount of time spent in the sun. His medium-thin and tall body was dressed casually, in light slacks and a button-up t-shirt. A large carry-all bag was unassumingly slung over his shoulder. Overall, the man was very attractive, and Scully was fairly certain he was the man of the hour.

"Mulder," she hailed his attention. "Is that him?" She nodded her head towards the front entrance, where the man was surveying the room, obviously looking for someone familiar.

Mulder turned around like a shot, and when his grin grew impossibly large, Scully knew she was correct. He flew out of his seat, and ran to bodily greet John Collins. When John turned and saw Mulder almost upon him, he openly reached out and embraced his old friend in a bear hug. After separating, the men vigorously shook hands and clapped backs - the usual man-to-man display of affection.

After greeting each other, Mulder showed John his way back to the table. "John," He gestured toward Scully, "I'd like you to meet my partner, Dana Scully"  
Mulder smiled, and she wasn't sure if he was smiling for his pride in her, or in his old best friend.

John smiled and pushed his hand out toward Scully. She took John's friendly hand, not able to help the wide smile that came across her face as she shook his hand. His demeanor was contagious.

"I remember Mulder mentioning his partner the last time I spoke with him. It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Scully." She apparently had John's seal of approval.

"A pleasure to meet you as well, John"  
Scully looked down at the table. "Please,  
make yourself comfortable."

John nodded and eased himself down into a chair, slinging an arm over its broad back. "Its so good to see you again, Mulder. I can't believe how long its been since we've spoken. It seems like its been a lifetime."

"I could hardly believe it either, John.  
Where the hell have you been?"

"Well, after I left the bureau, I went to work for a private environmental protection group, but you knew about that. About a year later, though, I was working as a special interest lobbyist on capitol hill, for the same cause. It was great, but I got tired of the semantics, the politics, the pace. It took a while to realize it, but it really wasn't for me. I got in touch with an old friend of mine and began working in environmental research, on a more hands-on level."

"What kind of research?" Scully was curious, and interrupted John's explanation.

"Surveying of mountainous terrain, watching wildlife growth and migration patterns, burn records, the such."

"To what means?" Scully asked.

"Well, it'll make a lot more sense to you when I tell you where I've actually been. The research and protection agency I work for is mainly based out of Cape Town, South Africa, for the Table Mountain Observatory and Preservation agency.  
Table mountain has been plagued by recent fires, not all of which are due to natural causes. There has been a rash of illegal hunting, as of late, amongst other problems."

"Africa, John?" Mulder was somewhat incredulous. "How did you end up on that detail?"

John smiled. "I know its not really what you think of as your cup of tea, Mulder,  
but its fantastic. The land is gorgeous,  
the people are friendly, and the job is a dream," John paused, "despite its recent complications."

"Complications?" Mulder asked.

"It's why I called you, Mulder. As much as I'm thrilled to see you again, I really need your help. You have such a penchant for cutting through the crap and getting down to the truth of the matter. I really need your insight this time."

"What is it, John?" Mulder grew concerned.

"There's been a problem. The agency sent a surveying and research team on an expedition of the mountain approximately nine weeks ago. Because of funding problems, our director was forced to call the team back to the offices. The research was not overwhelmingly telling or indicative of any significant change, so it was agreed that it would be best to call the team off. News was sent to the team leader. That was two weeks ago. There's been no word from the team since. Search teams have worked all up the mountain, with no luck. So far, they've only found the abandoned and ransacked tent site, which has yielded no evidence. Obviously, we fear the worst."

"What is it that you want me to do, John"  
Mulder asked, his brows furrowed.

John reached into his bag, still resting across his shoulder, and pulled out a file folder. He slid it toward Mulder. "I need you to take a look at the file"  
John paused, "And I want to come and take a look at the mountain."

Mulder let out a nervous chuckle. "John, you know just how far out of our jurisdiction Africa is. There's no way my supervisor will allow me to open an official investigation,  
here."

"I know that, Mulder. But I need your help. The local authorities have been working on this around the clock, with no results. I know if there is anyone who can help us, its you. I have a feeling that we really need to look outside the box, here, Mulder." John's look was fiercely pleading.

Scully chewed on her lip as she watched Mulder turn deep into thought.

"Where are you staying, John?" Mulder asked.  
"I want to take a look at the file, and discuss the matter with AD Skinner; see if there is any way on God's green earth that I can get out there. Can I call you later today with an answer?"

John nodded, "Sure, Mulder. Why don't we get together and discuss over a couple drinks later tonight? Just give me a call." He slipped Mulder his hotel's card. "I'm staying at the Holiday Inn."

"Thanks, John." As the men stood, they embraced again. "I'll see what I can do to get us out there. No promises, though."

"I understand, Mulder. I'll catch you later."

John waved silently to Scully, before walking back to the front entrance and making his way back to his rented vehicle.

Mulder and Scully shared a somewhat befuddled look before doing the same.

End Part One 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: "Umlindi Wemingizimu: Watcher of the South"  
By: Sara Tanner Category: X, A, MSR Spoilers: A couple thrown in there, for FTF, Detour, maybe some others. Summary: After being contacted by an old friend of Mulder's, the agents set out on an adventure in Cape Town, South Africa. Disclaimer: They're not mine, ok?

Notes: This was a shorter story I completed in 2000, I believe. I was never quite happy with how short it was. I had always thought it would make a more appropriate novel, as the story seemed brief and rushed. As of recent, I decided to take it back out and rehash it out to fulfill my dream for it.

There was quite a bit of research that went into the original story. The myth of Umlindi Wemingizimu is real, and has been researched prior to the beginning of the story. The research agency featured in the story, to avoid any possible political overtone or confusion, is fictional, as are all the original characters.

I'm through most of the story, and will be posting in increments as often as possible ( I won't dangle it out unnecessarily). I simply have yet to finish editing and getting all the ducks in a row.

"Umlindi Wemingizimu: Watcher of the South"

Part II

FBI Headquarters 1:30 pm

"Well, Scully, what do you think?"

Both agents had been silent on their short ride back to the Hoover building. Both were not quite sure what to think of John's request.  
The immediate reaction was to discount the possibility, but the more Mulder thought about it, the more he was intrigued.

"I think John's request is sincere, and that he is in need of help. However, I don't know how logical a leap it is to lend him official help in South Africa. You know Skinner's going to have a coronary as soon as the words leave your mouth, Mulder."

Mulder unlocked the office door, and watched Scully's back as she made her way to her swiveling office chair and plopped down. She sighed and quietly watched while Mulder seated himself in his own chair. He looked over at her expectantly.

"Why don't we look through the file, and see how we can best pitch this to Skinner?"

Mulder nodded. "You know what I've been thinking, though, Scully?"

"Hm?"

"Maybe the best way to go over there isn't by official channels. Likelihood is that local authorities aren't going to want a parade of US government types coming in to make a charade of everything. What if we went and surveyed the case in an unofficial capacity? We discuss it with Skinner, take some time off, and simply make a private consultation to John's agency?"

"I agree. But, I can tell you exactly what Skinner's going to say. We can't go and investigate in an unofficial capacity on behalf of a US agency. It makes no sense, and we have no avenue of protection as long as we're there." Scully paused. "Well, that, and I wasn't too fond of Africa the first time I went there." 

"What ever happened to your sense of adventure, Scully?" Mulder smiled, silently acknowledging her reference to his illness the year before.

"I think I might have left it in Antarctica,  
or in a humid forest in Florida, Mulder"  
she groused, but he knew she wasn't really serious. If she were adamant about not going, she would have certainly staked her case, and simply refused.

"Come on, Scully. You'll love it. And I would love it even more if you decided to survey the mountain in those little shorts you were painting your apartment in last weekend." His smile was idiotic.

"You're an idiot." She smiled, and the words passed her lips with affection. "and you know better than to start anything in the office."

Mulder got out of his office chair, and practically stalked over to her. She knew what he was after, and lifted her finger to intercept him before he could drop a kiss on her.

"We need to talk to Skinner. Then, we can go home and," she paused, "settle this before we call John and meet him tonight."

Mulder's shoulders slumped, and he out rightly pouted.

"Do you think he's actually going to let us do this?" Scully asked, a slight twinge of a smile on her face.

"Hell, no." Mulder laughed as he reached for the phone on her desk, calling to arrange a private meeting with one Assistant Director Skinner.

2:45 pm

"What can I do for you, Agents?" Skinner pushed his glasses off his face and scrutinized his agents while they took their usual seats across from him. Both of them looked vaguely pinched, stiff, and nervous. 'Jesus', he thought, 'What in the hell have they done now?'. Skinner fought the urge to roll his eyes as the agents waged a silent battle of wills in front of him. Apparently,  
they were deciding which lucky soul got the lovely task of explaining this new something or other to the AD.

"Today, I was contacted by a previous agent, a friend of mine, named John Collins." Mulder began.

"I think I remember him somewhat. He was just with us a short period of time, right? Left for a privatized career." Skinner asked. "If I remember correctly, he had some real promise here at the Bureau, too."

"Yes, that's correct, sir." Mulder nodded. "Since leaving the Bureau, John has been working with a private environmental research agency out of Cape Town, South Africa. Two months ago, a research team called back to headquarters because of money matters literally disappeared off the face of the Earth. There have been several search and rescue teams sent up the mountain, and so far there has been no luck finding the team. They've found the remains of their campsite, which is a disaster zone, but has yielded no evidence."

Mulder paused, assessing Skinner's reaction to his diatribe. Skinner looked intrigued. "And John has asked for my assistance with the disappearances."

Skinner sighed, obviously having seen Mulder's request coming. "Mulder, I don't have to tell you that there is no possible way the Bureau can expend agents to investigate a case in Africa."

Mulder nodded. "We're both well aware of that, sir."

Scully interrupted. "John's request for help was sincere, and he truly feels like the local law enforcement will have no luck getting anywhere with the investigation. Mulder's really not attempting to declare an official investigation out of this, sir." Scully was demonstrating her effective placement as middle ground between the two men. "Mulder and I both feel that the best course of action would be to approach John's request as unofficial. We thought it best if we approach the case as private consultants, and left the credit to the local law agency."

Skinner pinched his nose, the telltale sign that a headache was quickly settling itself over his skull. "And how do you propose that I keep you safe, agents? On another continent, I have no way of providing you back-up, support, or technology. You run many risks by going to another country. If you're injured, I don't know that the bureau would be able to cover the cost of a hospital in another country. I could go on forever."

"We understand that, Sir." Skinner could see that Mulder was about to get pushy. "However,  
you really can't control what Agent Scully and I do during our time off."

"Mulder..." Scully reached over and tapped his arm, basically telling him to stop being an asshole.

"Mulder, I may not be able to control you during your vacation time. However, I can ask for your badges and guns when you get back from investigating in an unauthorized jurisdiction. You and I both know that your threats are hollow, Mulder." Skinner could play just as nasty as Mulder could.

"Then just what are you suggesting we do, Sir? Sit back while these missing researchers die, or are discovered dead, becoming one more miserable statistic?"

"Calm down, Mulder, I'm not suggesting that at all." Skinner shook his head, frustrated with Mulder's flare for the dramatic. "I am suggesting that you need to sit on it for a day, however. I'm not allowing you and Agent Scully to go to goddamn Africa without some kind of protection."

"Sir, I'm afraid that every day we wait, these people are running out of time."

"That may be, Mulder, but there are still teams in Africa looking for them every day. This Afternoon, I will get in touch with the Consulate in Cape Town and clear the way for your arrival. I will let them know that two FBI liaisons will be working with the local law enforcement on a private basis. The Consulate will be able to provide you the protection you need, should something go wrong."

Scully nodded while Mulder pouted.

"Mulder, get off of it." Skinner surprised him. "You're getting what you want - just wait one day."

Mulder's Apartment 6:30 pm

"Well, we've got an hour before we meet with John.  
What'cha wanna do, pardner?" Scully was cheerful as they settled onto Mulder's couch, having just walked in the door, and still dressed in their work best. Scully quickly pushed her pumps off, sighing in pleasure, then tucked her legs up under her, her skirt pulling taut around her thighs. 

Mulder was still brooding over the meeting with Skinner. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little distracted."

Scully sighed. "You know, Mulder, you are being a little unreasonable about this."

Mulder's head popped up, as though she had just handed him the ultimate betrayal.

"Look, I'm not doubting the importance of getting to the mountain and finding this team. But, how quickly did you really think you were going to be able to get to Africa anyway, official channels or no?"

"I suppose I'm just afraid that John will feel that I've let him down if we don't find those people," He finally answered after a long silence. "He's an old friend, and he seems so desperate. I don't want to be a disappointment." 

"I don't think John was expecting any more from you than for you to do your best. You told him you couldn't promise him anything, and he was fine with that.  
What more could you do?" Scully physically reached up and turned him to look at her. "Look at me. Don't feel guilty about something you cant control.  
There is nothing wrong with needing all the protection we can get before we get out there, Mulder. I don't even want to think about what might happen if one of us is seriously injured on that mountain without any sort of resources."

Mulder smirked. "I think I love you, G-Woman."

Scully returned his smile. "Ditto, G-Man".

Mulder leaned over to capture her mouth wholly into his. The kiss was searching and satisfying, and calmly passionate.

When they separated, Mulder said, "You know, this still feels so strange."

Scully tilted her head in "that way", to let him know to continue on with his explanation.

"I just mean that it feels so foreign to me to argue with you on my couch like we always have, but to end the argument with this fantastic kiss. I don't know, I guess it just still feels new to have you in that way."

Scully nodded. "I suppose it still feels new to me, too. But I think its the best decision I've ever made." Scully chuckled. "It sounds like one of those cheesy things I never imagined myself saying, but I wouldn't trade this level of intimacy with you for anything."

"Neither would I." Mulder returned solidly as he pushed her pack on the couch, already working on the buttons of her work shirt, her blazer already having been shed when she walked into the door. "And I think its time to get you out of your work clothes, Agent Scully."

Scully simply chuckled and moaned back at him as he reached the last button on her blouse and petted her silk covered breast with the flat of his hand, giving her a light pinch. Her smile grew larger when he removed her bra and the unbuttoned blouse in one fluid movement.

Mulder's large hands moved gently up and down her sides, over her flat belly, to squeeze both of her bare breasts. When his hands left the mounds, he simply looked down at her, his eyes shining.

"What is it, Mulder?" Scully thought there was something wrong.

"Absolutely nothing." He rested his hand between her breasts. "I just love your body."

Scully was stunned by the unexpectedly sweet confession from him, and swiftly reached up to move things along.

7:10 pm

"Jesus, Mulder," Scully sighed. "We need to get going." Her voice was slightly alarmed.

"What?" His voice, on the other hand, was still lethargic. Scully was still perched above him, Her head resting against his chest while they remained joined. They had made quick work of their session, realizing their time was limited by their impending meeting with John.

Mulder looked over at the clock and groaned. "And here I thought you were about to compliment my technique."

Scully leaned over to grab a lingering kiss from him before allowing him to slip out of her while she rose to make her way into his bathroom to clean up and change. She was not shy as she made her way around the living room, picking up her clothing along the way, and affording Mulder some luxurious views of her bared body.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I loved your body"  
Mulder commented with a smile. He got up and walked up behind her as she was retrieving her panties. He slowly ran his hands up her backside.  
"You are so perfect."

Scully snorted (back to her usual self, he noticed), and turned to him. "If you don't stop touching me,  
we're never going to make our meeting on time." One eyebrow was raised, and he knew she meant business.

"Fine, woman." Mulder feigned hurt. "Whatever."

He watched with a smirk while she simply turned her back to him and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. When she returned, her hair was pulled up into a loose clip. Mulder loved the way she looked with her hair falling loosely around her face and out the top of the clip. He knew she did it when she didn't have time to take a shower and needed some way to disguise her apparently greasy hair. She had straightened the little bit of makeup she still had on from work, and was dressed in her black lace panties and bra. She had worn her tighter black slacks today, and therefore wore a thong to avoid panty lines. He would never understood some of the things women did, but he would never forget how he had been floored to find that the "straight and narrow"  
Agent Scully indulged in painfully sexy underwear.

Mulder didn't see Scully's smirk as she turned her backside to him, allowing him a view of her lacy thong. She reached into the top left side of his dresser (the left side was hers, now,  
and pulled out a pair of medium wash jeans and a snug-fitting white t-shirt. She quickly slipped the items on and turned back to Mulder, who was still watching her in his birthday suit.

"Mulder, it might be best if you went to the meeting with clothes on." She smirked.

Mulder let out a short bark of laughter as he went to his own drawers, fetching out his own black t-shirt and black jeans. It seemed that they might be on time for their meeting after all.

Casey's Bar and Grill 7:35 pm

When Mulder and Scully walked into the bar, John flagged them down from a table nearby the bar. He was already comfortably seated and sipping on his signature drink - a coke and Jack. He had dressed similarly to them, in jeans and a green t-shirt that accentuated his tan perfectly.

This time, Mulder did not greet John with a hung, but did shake his hand vigorously before sitting down. He did also notice John giving his partner the once-over. Mulder decided that he could hardly begrudge the man. Scully looked like a completely different person in her jeans and t-shirt. In fact, he was sure that, had she had access to her home closet, she probably would have dressed in slacks and a light sweater, more her usual style. His home drawers, however, were filled with those casual clothes she never left the house in, saved for lazy weekends when they were either sitting around watching TV and eating, or naked.

John was silently disappointed when neither agent ordered a spiked drink. Both settled for iced tea, then turned their attention to John.

"Well, John, it looks as though we've procured a way to make it to the mountain." Mulder was smiling slightly.

John let out a long sigh. "Thank God, Mulder. I can't tell you how scared I was that I hauled my ass all the way over here for nothing." He was nervously laughing, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"There is a small catch, though." Mulder was still smiling, however.

"I expected as much," John took another sip of his drink.

"It's going to probably be about 48 hours before we can get to the mountain. We spoke with Assistant Director Skinner, and got the go ahead to approach the case as private bureau liaisons. However, we have to wait to get Consulate clearance and support. We can't just up and go to Africa without some kind of assistance and back-up in case of an emergency. We've both got a real knack for ending up in hospitals." Mulder's smirk grew larger.

John chuckled. "I understand. I can't express how grateful I am that you can help at all, and I'll take it where I can get it. We've got teams going up the mountain every day, and we're doing all we can. I just can't wait to go up there with you two and getting a real look at the situation."

Mulder nodded.

"Have you had a chance to look at the file?" John asked as he finished off his drink.

"We have. It doesn't seem to offer much information we weren't already aware of. There's just no evidence of anything. I don't think we're going to find anything in the file. If we're going to learn anything, its going to be on that mountain. I do want to do some research tomorrow, however. There are a lot of myths and legends surrounding that mountain that I'd like to read up on before we go. I'm just not sure what could be going on up there, John."

John nodded. "Whatever it takes, Mulder. I don't care what the explanation is, but I want to find these people and whoever's responsible. And I want it bad.  
Those were my friends and colleagues up there, and they weren't doing anything wrong or even out of the ordinary."

"I think it goes without saying, John." Mulder passed a sympathetic smile his way. "Now, this place is great for a little dancing, and I think we should enjoy our company before we're knee-deep in dust and disappearances."

John nodded, his cheery demeanor slowly returning. It was then that Mulder and Scully opted for their favorite hard drinks, and John sighed with relief. After Mulder and Scully knocked back their various vodka and tequila concoctions, they got up for a short dance.

John observed them quietly from the table. He was a little chapped that he had no one to have a good time with,  
but he was getting a kick out of watching his friend and partner dance. John briefly wondered exactly what kind of relationship the two agents had. Being an ex-agent, he knew the kind of hassle one got for dating his partner, but it just seemed that there was more to the story.

'Why can't I find someone?' John wondered to himself. He thought back to the time he had spent as Mulder's roommate. He would never admit it to Mulder, but he had spent a good deal of time away from the dorm room insisting that Mulder really was the Spooky, quirky, weird son of a bitch people insisted he was. He did it to fit in. But at night, when they were alone with nothing to do, Mulder would tell him ghastly things that no one else would have the balls to tell anyone. He would let John see who he was. John would never come out and say it, but he respected Mulder.

"John, are you ok?" There was a soft feminine voice coming from across the table.

He looked up to see Scully standing at her chair, taking a sip of water. She was glowing with sweat, and looked like a million bucks. 'Why can't I find someone that adorable?'.

"John?" She asked again, growing concerned.

"I'm fine," John suddenly snapped out of it. "I was just thinking that Mulder's a lucky man." He sent her a look, telling her exactly what he meant by his statement.

Her color grew high in her cheeks, and John could see that he had made her uncomfortable; she was trying to think of what to say to him.

"Look, I'm not being a pig or anything. I had just been thinking that I wish I had been better to Mulder back when we were spending time together. He always considered me his friend, but I betrayed him in more ways that you can imagine." John hung his head. "I'm feeling a little guilty, and now I show up here practically demanding his help... I feel like the worst kind of slime."

"Don't feel that way." Scully slid into the chair nearest him. "He wants to help you. He was so excited to see you when you called. He wouldn't particularly say so out loud, but he really was. Maybe you should take this time to really get to know him, and to make it up to him by being his friend now."

John nodded, watching Mulder as he exited the men's room.

"But what do I say to him, Agent Scully?"

"Dana." Scully smiled. "And don't say anything."

End Part II 


	3. Chapter 3, Part 1

Title: "Umlindi Wemingizimu: Watcher of the South"  
By: Sara Tanner Category: X, A, MSR Spoilers: A couple thrown in there, for FTF, Detour, maybe some others. Summary: After being contacted by an old friend of Mulder's, the agents set out on an adventure in Cape Town, South Africa. Disclaimer: They're not mine, ok?

Notes: This was a shorter story I completed in 2000, I believe. I was never quite happy with how short it was. I had always thought it would make a more appropriate novel, as the story seemed brief and rushed. As of recent, I decided to take it back out and rehash it out to fulfill my dream for it.

There was quite a bit of research that went into the original story. The myth of Umlindi Wemingizimu is real, and has been researched prior to the beginning of the story. The research agency featured in the story, to avoid any possible political overtone or confusion, is fictional, as are all the original characters.

I'm through most of the story, and will be posting in increments as often as possible ( I won't dangle it out unnecessarily). I simply have yet to finish editing and getting all the ducks in a row.

PS- This is a small, vignette companion piece to the rest of the story. It's really just a quiet moment between our duo before they make their way out to Africa, and the adventure that lies ahead. More to come by the end of the week - likely Sunday.

Umlindi Wemingizimu: Watcher of the South Chapter 3, Part 1

Fox Mulder's Apartment 2:35 am

Try as he might, Fox Mulder was finding it damn near impossible to get to sleep. He sighed in frustration. He should be exhausted, having been out until 1:00 am drinking and catching up with John, dancing with Scully.

The thought of their outing brought a little smirk to his face. He couldn't explain why, but having John's validation made him feel giddy. It had been years since he had seen him, but his opinion still mattered just as much as it always had. There again, John had always had an interesting sort of influence on Mulder. It was never lost on him that John tended to struggle with keeping up his conviction in the face of ridicule. He would have had to have been stupid to never know the kinds of things passed through his lips behind his back. But it never seemed to matter.

He was also giddy with the knowledge that his old best friend and his lover got along so nicely. John had even shared a dance with Scully, and she hadn't grumbled or complained. He smiled as he thought back to the good time they'd had that night. She had been so charming.  
He wished other people saw her the way he did: not as the cream of the FBI crop, hard, unyielding, and professional, but as the soft, friendly woman in the jeans and t-shirt. He had a feeling that Dana really was the jeans and t-shirt type. Scully wasn't, but whenever she was in those jeans and t-shirts, Dana came out.  
Her eyes glimmered, and she looked ten years younger. She smiled more, and she cracked obvious jokes, rather than the subtle, intellectual ones that passed across their desks at work.

"Mulder, you ok?" Scully's sleep-deepened voice made its way to him as she shimmied herself over to him in the bed, snuggling up and dropping her head on his chest. She let out a brief sigh of contentment. "You haven't slept yet, have you?"

"No." His answer was not hostile. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just can't get my mind to shut up long enough to get some shut-eye."

"I can hardly blame you. We have a lot to think about in the next couple days." She smiled and dropped a chaste kiss on his bare chest.

"That's just it. I haven't thought about going to Africa at all." He paused."I suppose I've been caught up in some cheesy, sentimental thought"  
He lifted his eyebrows at her and grinned.

"Mulder?" Her eyebrows furled.

"Nothing deep, Scully. I was just thinking about how I'm glad you and John are getting along so nicely. I was thinking about my past friendship with him,  
about the things that happened back then. And then I was thinking about you. Watching you dance in your jeans and t-shirt, you were amazing. You were like a completely different person - so bright and happy, so sexy. I was wishing I saw you like that more often." He looked at her, waiting for her reaction.

"Deep, my ass, Mulder. What in the hell are you trying to say, Mulder?" Her face was still contorted in concern.

"Nothing, really." He paused. "I guess that came out sounding confused and a little depressed. I guess I just wished we had a good time like that more often. Maybe I wish there was a little less death and pain in our lives and the lives of those around us."

Scully cleared her throat, and paused to compose herself before speaking. "You know, Mulder, as much as I've talked about 'getting out of the car' or whatever else I've said, I don't think I could ever lead a so-called 'normal' life. I don't think you could either. I think we both chose this life, maybe not consciously, but we did. And I think any kind of tame life with a couple kids and a white picket fence, featuring neighbors who just want to be 'neighbory'," they both paused and chucked at her reference. "would ultimately kill us."

"I don't know, Scully," He hugged her to him. "From where I'm sitting, I think I could spend the rest of my life loving you." He smiled and bent to drop and soft kiss to the side of her throat.

She pushed him away to look into his face. "In all seriousness, Mulder. You love me, but you also love your sister."

Mulder winced and was ready to rebutt. He hadn't meant to begin this kind of conversation. She stopped him from uttering any kind of complaint,  
though.

"I'm not finished. You love your sister, you loved your family. You still move through life keeping your promises to them and others whom have passed on. You love your files, and what they represent to you. I could never ask you to choose between any of those things and me."

Mulder smiled. "But I could, Scully. And I would always choose you."

Scully raised her eyebrows, asking him to explain, as her eyes watered just a bit.

"I would always choose you because you represent the two things that are most important to me."

He took a minute to press a gentle kiss against her mouth, pulling her closer, almost cradling her.

"To me, you represent the Truth, and the light."

No more words were spent on conversation. Mulder quietly made love to her, solidifying his words.  
He would have never told anyone, but this was his favorite way to make love - in the middle of the night, when it seemed the rest of the world was taking part in their daily repose. Outside the apartment and in, it was dark, almost too dark to see, and things were eerily calm. He would keep his cries held to the back of his throat, not wanting to interrupt the soothing silence around him. Only when he was finished did he quietly whisper, "God, I don't think I could love you any more."

End Chapter 3, Part 1 


End file.
